


Even When I'm not Myself

by makingitwork



Series: Peter/Stiles [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mates, Nogitsune, Possessed Stiles, Spark Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5603065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and the Nogitsune tempt Peter</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even When I'm not Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted sort of by myself. You guys have given me awesome prompts which I am currently working on, but I adore evil Stiles
> 
> Although Kaister did ask for 'Peter before meeting Stiles?' which is kinda part of this so there :)

‘ _NO! No! Please- Please get off! GET OFF ME!’_ Stiles roared, thrashing in the bed, and Peter started panting, holding him down

‘Stiles! Stiles wake up! It’s just a bad dream!’

Stiles continued thrashing, screaming and crying until the Sheriff ran into the room, flicking on the lights, and meeting Peter’s worried eyes.

Stiles had woken up like this every day for the past five days, and wept into his pillow for hours afterwards, complaining of nightmares and unimaginable pain that he just couldn’t remember. Peter did as much research as he could but he knew it was all futile. Stiles was the researcher, he was the one who knew everything and so if he couldn’t find out what it was, chances were no one could. That didn’t stop them from trying though. 

‘He’s sixteen,’ Derek would say softly, as the pack gathered in the front room ‘that rules out a lot. There aren’t many spirits or demons or witches that choose to curse someone so young.’

‘Could it be because of Peter?’ Scott asked ‘he’s mated to a were-wolf, they could be using Stiles to get to him.’

‘Maybe.’ Derek nodded

Lydia smiled wryly ‘it’s funny, isn’t it? The one person who could find out what it is, is Stiles.’

Days passed, they kept researching but the pack were quickly becoming pre-occupied by the suspicious deaths. Scott, Peter and the Sheriff focused more on Stiles, who had started sleep walking. Peter would patrole around the house most nights while John held his son who screamed like he was being tortured in his sleep. 

Peter was going to find what did this. 

Was going to burn it alive. 

Of course, by the time they found out, it was far, far too late. 

Nogitsune. An ancient Japanese fox spirit had chosen Stiles, and was using his body during nightmares and sleep walking sessions. But now he had taken over. 

And they couldn’t find him. 

…

…

…

 

‘Aw guys,’ Stiles grinned at them ‘look at you! Are you all dressed up to fight little old me?’ He was sat on the concrete steps of the school, the perfect picture of calm. His hair jabbed upwards in disarray and his skin was paler than Peter had ever seen. The dark rings under his eyes nearly purple and the cheeks thinner. He was wearing a dark green jacket Peter had never seen before, and five black-robed warriors wielding silver swords with black smoke surrounding them stood in a line behind him. Ready to strike. 

Derek, Scott and Peter were half shifted, Allison held her bow and arrow tightly poised, and Lydia’s hands were shaking around the gun. ‘Give us Stiles back,’ Scott called across the darkness, and the thing stood up, chuckling 

‘Stiles isn’t here for you guys anymore,’ he grinned, tapping his temple ‘he’s up here though, gosh Scotty, I wish you could hear him screaming for you! He’s adorable isn’t he? Here- I’ll give you a little taste.’ And the darkness in his eyes faded, and Stiles was stood before them. Shaking and crying

‘Run.’ He whispered, choked ‘Oh god please run- run, he’s going to go to the hospital, get Melissa- Peter,’ he looked so tired and so broken ‘I love you so m-‘

With a roar, Stiles was gone, and the Nogitsune stood in his place, wiping the tears off his cheeks with distaste ‘He’s an emotional little wreck, isn’t he?’ He grinned wickedly ‘But Peter, Scott, I am going to help you out. You may want to rush to the hospital right about now. Allison, Derek, Lydia, this is for you.’ He crossed his hands together over his stomach, and the warriors started to attack.

Scott grabbed Peter’s arm, and dragged him away.

 

…

…

…

The house was quiet, and Peter sat on the edge of the coffee table, just watching his mate- Stiles- that thing. Even with the black tape over his mouth, he looked so cocky. His eyes watching Peter, scanning him, learning. His arms were tied behind his back, and he was so, so pale. 

‘I’m going to change the dressing now,’ Peter said, lifting Stiles’ shirt and cutting off the bandage. Stiles was still so warm, still smelt of mate, and Peter couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Stiles looked, so confident and smug. He changed the dressing, and looking up, to see those beautiful amber eyes watering, as a single tear fell down that curved cheek ‘Stiles?’ He whispered hopefully, and his boy nodded as Peter pulled the tape off gently only for his heart to break

‘Oh Peter,’ He grinned, a half quirk of his lips ‘one tear? Come on now, big bad wolf needs to be a little stronger than that for his little red riding hood,’ the void chuckled slightly ‘I can see all of his thoughts and fantasies, Peter. He’s a little stuck on a red riding hood role play. He thinks about that a lot. He thinks about you a lot. More than Scott, even. More than his dad. And you said not till he’s eighteen,’ he pouted ‘that is the sweetest thing. Bet you’re regretting it now though,’ 

‘Why?’ Peter swallowed ‘why him? Why are you doing this?’ 

The Nogitsune shifted as though he was agitated and annoyed at having to explain ‘of all the people I thought would understand my choice,’ he said through gritted teeth ‘it was you, Peter. My _soul mate._ Stiles is so underestimated. He’s smart, and he’s strong. And he has secrets that even he doesn’t know about. His body- in his blood. I think you’ve suspected for a long time, haven’t you, Peter?’ It smiled, more softly, voice dropping into a whisper ‘about his spark.’

Peter locked his jaw ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Ben Trie saw it all those years ago, the witch who cursed you saw it, and I see it too. Stiles doesn’t though. He doesn’t ever see anything about himself. But he hears so much. He knows so much, Peter. He knows about you. About what you did when you were eighteen. He knows that you killed that innocent man on a full moon, that you buried him in the woods, yes, oh yes,’ he tipped his head back, showing off his long lean throat whilst Peter broke ‘he knows, he’s the Sheriff’s son, of course he knows. He knows _everything_ about everyone in this town, but he never says a word. He still loves you, still admires Melissa, oh god, Stiles,’ The void shook his head fondly ‘the boy who knew everything but never said a word. Which is funny, isn’t it? He talks so much. He protects everyone every single day. He knows about every monster, he knows all the secrets, all the plans, he knew about me, Peter. From the first nightmare he knew exactly what I was. And you know what he also knew? That there was _nothing_ anyone could do.’ His voice started rising, he was yelling. Peter had never heard Stiles’ voice yell before but it was deep and growling and fierce ‘You can’t kill me! Nothing can! I’m a thousand years old, you can’t kill me!’ 

Peter just stared at him, let the spirit calm down, before he regained composure 

‘I like you, Peter. You’ve got blood on your hands too, and you’re nice to look at. And I’d like to keep you around. Soul mates make you stronger.’ He leaned forward, and Peter realised, rather dazedly, that Stiles’ hands were free, and they slid up Peter’s knees ‘me and you, Peter. _Power and ruling and chaos._ I’ve read your file, I know you,’ he slid his nose up Peter’s neck ‘you used to want that. Come on, me and you.’

Peter shook his head, incapable of words 

‘What if I told you he wanted you to. Right now, up there, he’s telling you to take the deal. He knows you’ll die if you don't. He knows. He’s quoting something, does ‘better to be on the right side of the devil rather than stand in his way’ mean anything to you?’ Peter growled and the Void looked mock surprised ‘oh gracious. You best join me then.’ He stood up, holding out his hand ‘you and me, Peter. I can be like him, oh you’d be surprised at how much Stiles and I have in common. I’m just a little more powerful, that’s all.’ 

‘Don’t move, Peter,’ Deaton said, and Peter froze. He hadn’t even realised he’d been moving his hand. Deaton had a gun trained on Stiles, and Peter stood 

‘He’s my mate, Alan. Put the gun down.’ Peter felt Stiles saddle up beside him, linking their arms together 

‘He’s gonna kill me, Peter,’ Stiles purred ‘help me, please help me-‘

‘Don’t listen to him, Peter.’ Chris said, appearing as though from nowhere ‘he’s not Stiles-‘

‘ _Wolfie,’_ The Void whispered, and Peter growled, half shifting and growling at the two men ‘come on, Wolfie, shift, shift and let’s go. I’ll ride on your back just like we used to do.’

‘Peter.’ Chris said sternly ‘look at him- look at him! It’s not _Stiles.’_

Peter turned to look at his mate, Stiles was grinning, beaming at the chaos he had created. Egging it on. ‘You’re not my mate.’ Peter said, ripping his arm from Stiles’ grip, and the boy glowered with hatred.

He hurled himself at the window, disappearing beyond the shattered glass.

…

…

…

 

Afterwards, Stiles is inconsolable. 

He just cries and cries, and stares at his hands as though they don’t belong to him. As though they’re still stained with blood or crackling with electricity and power. Stiles curls in on himself, and Peter doesn’t know what to do. 

One night, after finishing up with some pack business, he opened the window to Stiles’ room, only to find the bed empty, but there were two heart beats in the house. He peeked into the Sheriff’s room, to find John propped up on the headboard, with Stiles curled on his lap. John met Peter’s eyes, with tiredness and woe 

‘he’s just a boy.’ John whispered, carding his fingers through Stiles’ soft hair. Peter stood in the darkness of the room, and sighed 

‘he’s been more than that for a long time, John. He’ll get better. He will.’

It takes time, a lot of time. 

But Stiles comes back. 

For the first time, weeks later, he wakes up in his own bed, sunlight streaming into his room and he wonders why he finds that so bizarre. Stiles sits up, looking around. Peter is asleep beside him, and his room is clean and dusted which is so strange because- yes Stiles is clean, organised, but he doesn’t dust. He just cranks open a window and turns on a fan and sneezes.

He’s not screaming.

He reaches his hand up to touch his throat and smiles. It’s not sore. He hasn’t been screaming. He stands up with a sudden burst of energy and hope, and he laughs, going straight for the window and sticking the top half of his body out, breathing in the glorious beautiful fresh air, and how has he not noticed this before? He starts crying a little, with utter joy. He feels good. Oh god, how long has it been? He reaches a hand out and plucks a leaf from the tree and smooths his thumb over it. He needs to get higher- he needs to see the sun. 

He hauls himself out of the window, swinging onto the branches and climbing up the tree. He hasn’t done this for years, and he peaks out at the top and laughs in utter delight. There’s the blue of the sky and the birds and the morning sun. 

Yes, yes he can still remember all the horrible, horrible things he’s done, and how he can remember liking them, but he’s sixteen. And the world is so beautiful.

He needs to see Scott. He tucks and lets himself drop from the tree, landing on the ground with a thump and running. It’s so easy to break into the Mcall household, and Melissa is up, she jumps upon seeing him, and then rolls her eyes and returns to breakfast. Scott’s asleep, and Stiles bounds onto his bed, jumping up and down and Scott groans, turning into the pillow

‘I’m sleeping, Stiles. We can go dead body searching tomorrow-‘ he cuts himself off, realising he hasn’t said those words in months. He turns, looking up to see Stiles. _His_ Stiles, his goofy best friend, and he looks rested. Scott wraps his arms around him so tightly and they both end up falling off the bed, laughing and play fighting. 

‘I’ve missed you so much.’ Stiles whispers, and Scott lifts Stiles onto his back easily with his werewolf strength, and runs downstairs, plonking Stiles onto the sofa 

‘Stiles- I’m…I’m so glad you’re back.’ He whacks Stiles’ head ‘we’re going to play video games, and make nutella smoothies.’ 

Stiles grins ‘Bagsie Mario!’

‘You’re always Mario!’

Melissa’s heart warms, and she texts Peter and John that Stiles is here. And she watches the two boys, the _brothers_ play and bicker and then go traipsing in the woods to find bodies and disturb the peace.

Stiles looks off into the distance a few times, or sours a little during certain games, but overall he’s happy.

He’s healing.

 

…

…

…

 

‘Come on,’ Stiles whined, collapsing onto Peter with an oof ‘just admit it! You were totally into hot evil, Stiles. Wanted a piece of my ass.’

‘You’re an idiot.’

‘Just say it!!’ Stiles laughed ‘you were prepared to go all evil on me, and we’d have been wicked murder husbands.’ He got comfortable atop his mate, and Peter twined their hands together ‘Hey, you know when I’m eighteen, we have our mating ceremony?’

Peter nodded

‘Does that mean we have to get each other presents? Because I have no idea what to get you.’

‘Idiot. No gifts.’

Stiles pouted ‘but you’ll get me something. I know you will.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Liar.’

Peter laughed

 

…

…

…

Peter's 22, and Talia, quite frankly, has had enough of his bullshit. 

'My god, Peter!' She snaps one day 'it's not all about power! You went travelling the world when you were eighteen, and you came back four years later! Now look at you, 23 and quite frankly just completely obsessed. You're an Alpha, yes well done, but I am in charge of this pack! And unless you plan on killing your entire family then you won't be getting enough power to overthrow me any time soon.' 

Peter knows that Talia knows something has changed. He knows that she suspects he killed someone. The blood of an innocent makes you a more powerful werewolf, and Peter is definitely more powerful than Talia remembers. He brushes off her worries by saying 'it was just experience.' 'Besides, Talia,' he grins 'I have a new plan. I'm going to research soul mates-'

'Oh for the love of God, Peter-'

'Everyone's got one. It's just the finding them that's rare. And if I put my mind to it, I know I'll be able to! Imagine the power, I could form my own pack with them, be one of the leading packs, and I would ally to you of course, we could take over territories all over the world!'

'I don't want to take over territories all over the world!' She snaps and Derek starts crying from the other room and she goes to comfort him, he's been finding the shift difficult with the arrival of the full moon and it's been causing him joint pain 'I'm happy here, Peter. And I wish you would be too. Soul mates...they're a rare and sacred thing. Not for power, but for love.'

'Love.' Peter rolls his eyes.

Years later, Peter is walking down the road- when something bumps into his legs. He looks down to see a five year old holding a loaded gun and grinning. 'Hi!' The boy squeals and Peter looks around curiously, when he sees the Sheriff panting and rushing down the street 

'Stiles! Put the gun down, son!'

Stiles looks at the gun in his hand, then giggles like a little imp, and runs away. The Sheriff nods at Peter, taking off after him, and Peter shakes his head and grins. He likes Stiles, he decides. He wonders at the odd name for a moment, before remembering Claudia's polish origins. He likes the Stilinski's. And then goes to continue when a gust of wind brings the scent back to him. He freezes. It can't be. It can't be- he turns to see the Sheriff scoop his son up and watch Stiles press a kiss to his father's nose. Peter feels weak in the knees. It is. It is, that's his mate. His soul mate. 

He doesn't realise that he forgets about power, about being an alpha, about taking control of the world in that moment. And Talia never reminds him. Peter Hale fell in love in that instant, and nothing else ever mattered again.

...

...

...

It’s a couple of months are Stiles turns 18, after the ceremony, after a lot, that Stiles discovers he’s a spark. 

Peter watches proudly as Stiles works with Ben, crackling with magic and too often Peter comes home to find cats talking and popcorn and candy floss self making in the kitchen. 

One time he comes home years later and the entire apartment has been charmed to look like a glittering ball room, and Stiles is wearing a mouth watering tuxedo and dancing under a huge chandelier with…Peter. To beautiful orchestral music. Stiles saw him and grinned, and the fake Peter disappeared

‘I missed you?’ Stiles tried, and Peter rolled his eyes, taking Stiles by the hips and continuing to dance

‘This is what you do all day? Charm the apartment and conjure me up?’

‘I’m the Master of Illusion!’ Stiles grinned, and as his concentration was stolen by Peter’s kiss, the illusion melted away, leaving them in a clean, white modern apartment, Stiles in his pyjamas, dancing on the coffee table to Taylor Swift’s latest CD.

Which to Peter, was equally perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly guys, I love your comments and they keep me writing  
> x


End file.
